


Mistletoe

by Luciferine



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Compliant Only to the First Game, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Written Prior to the Sequel, holiday fluff, its hard to find ellie has to improvise, joel is oblivious, no actual mistletoe if you can believe it, there is not enough christmas fluff for these two in the WORLD, this is an au of sotm ellie is of age here but tagged to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5554295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferine/pseuds/Luciferine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellie is behaving strangely, and Joel really wants an explanation. A fluffy ficlet for the holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I promised CatrionaMac mistletoe fluff for Christmas. I’ve had no internet access for the past few days, including Christmas, and took that time to, unsurprisingly, write fic. Happy holidays to all my amazing, patient readers; I hope you enjoy this silly little present and that it makes you smile.

At first, Joel is sure the whole thing is a prank. It’s as fair a guess as any in their house; anything even mildly out of the ordinary is usually a pretty good sign that Ellie is up to something. There’s opportunity enough for trouble lately, with snow blanketing Jackson for the first time this year and slowing the town down, keeping them inside more often than not. Bless her, the girl can be an absolute _terror_ when she’s bored.

Still, he’d rather be the punchline of her jokes than have her distant and jumpy, remembering things about this time of year that she’d rather not. He’s always a little more willing to play along during the winter, and she knows it. So when she finds him staring at the cluster of leaves –something hardy and wintergreen he can’t identify- hanging over their front door, he expects her to laugh.

She doesn’t. She stares at him expectantly, and they spend a good stretch of time just… looking. When it becomes clear that she won’t explain, he finally asks. “Why the leaves?” 

He doesn’t really see the point of it, but he’s not about to complain. Her pranks range from absurd to downright _evil_ , and he’ll take whatever _this_ is in good graces.

She stares hard at him for a minute, in the way she does when she thinks he’s bullshitting her. But he’s not, and the second she realizes it he sees something strangely close to embarrassment cross her face. “Shit,” she says, and promptly disappears into the other room.

“Okay,” he says to the empty air, less confused than he could be. Ellie is probably the strangest person he’s ever met, and he’s learned to roll with the punches when it comes to the way her brain works. If it’s important, he trusts that she’ll get around to telling him sooner or later.  

He’s not sure when or how she does it, but when he passes the doorway later that night, the leaves are gone.

\-----------------

When he sees the pine branch, he’s actually a little impressed. It’s sizable, pinecones and all, and it actually looks good over the doorway, like some decoration that would cost way too much money Before. He stares for a moment, trying to figure out how such a little thing could get something that big all the way up there, before writing it off as Ellie just being contrary and finding a way in spite of her height.

She looks especially small today, staring forlornly up at the branch from her spot, leaning against the doorway. He’s sat strumming their guitar for at least five minutes, and she hasn’t moved once.

“You need somethin’?” he asks. Usually, she’d be sitting with him, listening to him play or snatching the guitar right out of his hands.

“No,” she mutters.

“You just gonna stand there?”

“It’s my house. I can stand if I fucking want to.”

He scoffs. “Actually, it’s _my_ house. I let you stay here out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Right.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m a joy to live with, don’t even lie.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.”

She beams. “You probably wouldn’t even be living here without me. You’d be all lonely and _old_.”

He barks out a laugh. “Reckon I’m still old, unless you have some anti-agin’ abilities I didn’t know about?”

“Whatever, dude. I make you feel young.” She grins toothily, sideways and cheeky enough to make his eyebrows rise. He hums a neutral response, keeps his face carefully blank, but she must catch something in his eyes because she looks away, red-faced. _Brave_ , he thinks, _but still young._

She clears her throat. “My point is,” she continues, a little shaky, “that I’m the reason you keep this place, right?”

“Sure,” he concedes, curious to see where she takes this.

“So I should at _least_ own it as much as you do. I mean, I should probably have a bigger share, but I’m okay with a fifty-fifty split.”

“Are you now?”

“I’m nice like that.”

“I’m floored by your generosity,” he mutters. She sticks her tongue out at him.

A few beats of comfortable silence pass. “Are you gonna stay there all day?” she asks, voice hinging on a whine.

He leans back against the wall, stretching out his legs with exaggerated slowness. “Maybe.”

“You’re such an ass,” she mutters, but she can’t quite hide her grin.

“D’you need me to get up?” he asks seriously, because she _still_ hasn’t moved and he’s definitely missing something here.

“No.”

“So you’re just gonna stand there?”

“Pretty much.”

“Wanna tell me why?”

“Not really.”

“Alright.” He returns to the guitar, strumming idly while she stands, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “You got pine needles in your hair.”

She huffs, threading her fingers through her hair to loosen the snarls. “I fucking hate you, you know that?”

“That’s nice.” After a few moments of frustrated sounds and increasingly harsh hair tugging, he looks up again. “Stuck?”

“Fuck _off_.” More tugging. “Maybe.”

He chuckles and sets the guitar aside. “C’mere, kid.”

She looks like she’s about to refuse, but the needles prove more annoying than she is stubborn. She trudges over with such a wounded expression that he almost feels bad for her. She settles between his legs, grumbling all the while. “Fix me,” she demands, all teenage superiority, those startling eyes shining as she sends him a haughty look.

“Yes, your highness,” he mutters, tugging a little harder than necessary on his first few tries.

She yelps out protests and squirms around, but never tries to get up or actually stop him. It’s very warm, where her back settles against his front, and she edges back so she’s as close as she can be without stopping his work.

“It’s fucking cold in here,” she complains. Her skin is impossibly warm where it touches his, both of them down to T-shirts.

He hums his agreement, allows himself a small smile since she can’t see. “Best stay close, then. Don’t want you gettin’ sick.”

“Yeah.” She shifts against him, that nervous energy still not gone. “Thanks.”  

If they stay there longer than they have to, his hands still tangled in her hair long after all the needles are out, neither of them mention it.

\-----------------

It’s possible he’s overlooked some new trend. He’s not sure how that would happen, exactly, since his brother runs the entire town and never shuts his goddamn mouth about it. But he’s clearly missing _something_ , unless Ellie’s special brand of crazy is catching. Which is doubtful, considering he’d be Patient Zero if that was the case.

“Tryin’ your hand at interior decoratin’, little brother?” Joel asks, shaking the snow off of his coat and nodding toward the little cluster of leaves and berries above his brother’s door.

 “It’s _festive_ ,” Tommy protests, like they’re not twenty years past the end of the world. Joel and Maria share a long-suffering look that can only pass between two people who’ve spent _excessive_ amounts of time with Tommy Miller.

“It’s a weed, Tommy,” Joel says with exaggerated patience, though it does look enough like holly to pass for a Christmas plant.

A clump of snow sits on Ellie’s ponytail, and he brushes it off. She rolls her eyes at him but tilts her head back so he can dust off the rest.

“Use your _imagination,_ big brother. Don’t have any mistletoe, so this is the next best thing, yeah?” Tommy laughs, winding an arm around Maria’s waist and planting a noisy kiss against her cheek.

Joel rolls his eyes, maybe with a bit more force than necessary for brotherly teasing, alone in his exasperation as Maria laughs and bats her husband away. Easy displays of affection don’t annoy him as much as they used to, which is... something he doesn’t want to dwell on all that much.

Ellie shivers briefly as she hangs her coat, and he rubs warm circles against her back to ease the cold.

Tommy grins at her. “Ellie thought it was pretty cool when she came over the other day. You gonna make fun of her, too?”

“Tommy,” Maria chides, nudging his side hard enough to make him wince.

“Jesus, woman. What’d I say?”

Ellie stands frozen, watching Joel with wide eyes as she fights to keep her expression carefully blank. His hand is still on her back, and he swears he can feel her heart beating double-time against his fingertips.

“I was just kiddin’, Ellie,” Tommy says, confused but already sorry. “Joel wouldn’t laugh at you, not for anythin’ in the world.”

“I know,” Ellie says, in the softest voice.

Joel stares at the makeshift mistletoe for a moment, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood so he won’t burst out laughing. _Lord, I’m an idiot._ “Oh,” he says. He can’t help the startled bark of laughter he lets out. “ _Oh_.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows, a wry smile twisting his mouth. “Alright there, brother?”

“Just fine.” It takes some work to school his features properly; the urge to grin like an idiot is _damned_ strong. He looks up again, a half-baked plan forming in his mind. When he looks down at Ellie, there’s something expectant in her eyes, almost a challenge. _That’s my girl._

He leans forward, watching her eyes go big as saucers, pausing to make sure she’s not about to pull away. But she stands still, and he brushes his lips against her forehead. It’s quick and sweet, her skin snow-cold under his mouth, and it’s harder than he’d expect to pull away. She watches him with an expression of utter disbelief, cheeks flushed with cold.

The whole thing lasts a second or two at most, entirely above reproach, but the tension doesn’t leave Ellie completely.

“Your mouth is fucking _cold_ ,” she mutters, covering up whatever it was he just saw in her. Joel snorts, plays along as always.

Maria clears her throat, studying their faces curiously. “Anybody ready for dinner?”

“ _Fuck_ yeah,” Ellie mutters, elbowing Joel when he snickers. “Asshole. You’re not supposed to laugh at me.”

Joel shrugs. “Ain’t my fault you’re a riot.” He _just_ catches the proud little grin she tries to smother.

She grabs his hand and pulls him towards the table. “C’mon, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starvin’,” he shoots back, dodging her foot before it can hit his shin. Ellie scoffs and curses him soundly, and as he bites back a smile he very pointedly ignores Tommy’s amused gaze.

\-----------------

The walk home is uncharacteristically quiet; the snow is blowing hard, and every now and then Ellie flinches against him, whatever brief happiness she might’ve had at Tommy’s gone completely in the face of old memories. He knows she just needs time, and a bit of distracting, but it’s still difficult to see her lost in her own head. He’s more grateful than ever to be so close to his brother’s house, and there’s a relief in opening his own front door that he’ll never stop marvelling at.

The pine branch remains over the inside of the door, and needles fall to the floor like snowflakes. There’s a low thud as a pinecone joins the rain. Ellie giggles softly, stepping delicately around the mess. “What a disaster.” She grimaces, shrugging out of her coat. “God, what a stupid idea.”  

He smiles wryly, and decides he’s damn near finished playing stupid. “Ain’t your fault I’m slow on the uptake.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “I just thought, since Tommy had it- that you would _know_ , but…” She trails off, chewing anxiously at her bottom lip. “It was dumb. _I_ was dumb. Just forget about it, okay?”

“Ellie,” he says softly. “It’s alright.”

She laughs shakily. “I should’ve given it up after the first try. I just thought… fuck, I don’t know.”

“That’s why you stood here for half an hour,” he says, heart breaking a little as he sees the truth of it written across her face. “You were waitin’ for me to pass under the door.”

She shrugs. “Didn’t know what I would do if you did, but… yeah.” She smiles self-deprecatingly, doesn’t meet his eyes. “Like I said, I was dumb.”

“It was sweet,” he protests. He expects her to smile at that, but her face falls even further. “I don’t mind, Ellie.” _Lord, if you had any idea how much I_ do not _mind…_

“I know.” She tries another smile, not quite fitting it to her face before it drops. “Thanks.”

He swallows down rising frustration, curses himself for being so fucking _useless_ with words. “C’mere,” he says finally, reaching for her hand.

There’s a thousand different reasons why he shouldn’t do what he’s about to, but her _face_ , the way she wrings her hands uncertainly and curls in on herself- seeing her like that is enough to bury every one of the cautioning voices in his head.

She takes his hand immediately, her eyes clouded with confusion, and steps forward easily when he pulls her to him. “Joel?” she asks, her eyes trusting and wide and _hopeful,_ of all things. He would laugh, if he wasn’t so terrified of fucking it all up. She’s so _small_ , and he has to duck his head to be at her level. He can feel the crick in his neck coming on already, and he couldn’t care less if he tried.

She gapes at him, and he smiles despite himself. “Properly, this time?” he offers.

She gulps, blinks quick like she’s not sure if she’s dreaming. “Yeah.”

He presses his mouth to hers, as gently as he knows how. Ellie jolts immediately, and he nearly pulls away before her hands come up to grip his shoulders, a soft sound at the back of her throat as she presses up against him. Her lips are cold and sweet against his, her hands frozen even through the fabric of his shirt, and Christ, she’s _smiling._

All he ever wanted was for her to be happy, he’d gladly give his own life for it, but Lord help him, he’s not doing this just for her. He takes some comfort, knowing that she wouldn’t stand for that. She wants to be _wanted_ , his girl, and there’s nobody on this Earth better suited to the job than he is.  

The height difference is significant, even with Ellie up on the tips of her toes, but _damn_ if she isn’t doing her best. There’s a moment of guilt, welling up black and ugly in his chest as she wraps her arms around his neck and stretches to get closer; this beautiful girl kissing him all unsteady and unsure and so _fucking_ perfect that it’s becoming impossible to keep his head on straight. He grips her a little harder than he should, but she just _grins_ , laughter bubbling over her tongue and bursting against his.

He thinks – _knows_ \- she would let him go further, deepen the kiss and leave her breathless and shaking. But that’s not what this is, not yet. She’s young, and as good as she feels against him –he’s going to hell, he’s going to _burn_ and there’s no way it can hurt worse than keeping his hands from moving the way they want to- he has a responsibility to her.

But she’s soft and warming up _beautifully_ beneath his hands, making the happiest little sounds against his mouth and _he’s only human._ He lets himself keep her for another few heartbeats, his guilt fading around the same he pulls back for air and sees the way her eyes shine, all starry and unfocused. It’ll be back, but not tonight.

“Oh,” she whispers, understanding crawling across her face in time with her smile.

“Yeah.” He presses his lips to her forehead, lets himself linger this time.

“I’m a fucking genius,” she breathes. He throws his head back and laughs loud, forcing himself to step back. She grumbles in protest, and he huffs his agreement. But they have time, and Ellie is too precious for him to be anything else but _painstakingly_ careful with her. By some miracle, she trusts him; after all the shit he’s done, there’s no way he could ever be worthy of it, but he’s going to do his damndest to _try_.    

“Come get warm,” he says instead, gently nudging the small of her back.

She brings her hand to her mouth, wiping at it absent-mindedly as she watches him, a pretty red smirk crawling across her face. “I’m pretty warm already, actually.”

He snorts, relieved beyond belief to see her without the tension of the last few days weighing on her. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

“Whatever, dude. You’re the one who got seduced by a bunch of pinecones.”

He rolls his eyes, crossing the room to gather blankets into his arms. “Yeah? Who kissed who?” Neither of them even try to keep a straight face, and he should’ve known, that nothing would change.

“True,” she allows, kicking off her boots and grimacing as she lays bare feet on the floor. “Fuck, that’s cold- _fine,_ I admit it, I was kinda seduced too. Mind blown, world rocked, and all that shit. Great job, gold star.” She runs the rest of the way to the cot on the balls of her feet, jumping up onto it.

He snorts. “See, you say that, but I feel like you don’t mean it.”

She beams, swinging her legs back and forth. “Somebody’s gotta keep you humble.”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

He tosses a blanket at her, chuckling when it lands over her head. “ _Shut up_.”

She squawks her protest, pulling the blanket off and leaving her hair a frazzled mess.  “Listen-and I really mean that, please take me up on this… _Make me_.”

He slides in beside her, hissing as she tucks her frozen feet against his. “Find some real mistletoe, and maybe we’ll talk.”

Ellie grins, wide and reckless, and as she curls up against him he has the sneaking suspicion that she’ll _grow_ some if she has to. “Deal.”

 


End file.
